


The roses told me

by caramelaire



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: -Ish, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roses, another one of my self-indulgent fics, this is probably suited for Valentines but idc, what is time anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelaire/pseuds/caramelaire
Summary: She looks around, spotting roses of varying shades. Yellow like the ones in her hand. Then peach ones, blue, coral, white, lavender, pink, and—nestled at the farthest corner of the vast garden, seemingly unattainable—red roses. A beautiful and bold shade that caught the sunlight almost ethereally.So why… Glimmer thinks again, looking down at the one in her hand. Why is it always yellow?—A collection of all the roses Bow and Glimmer have given to each other and how their shade and meaning has changed over time, starting with the yellow ones.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 55





	1. Peach

**Author's Note:**

> Got this idea from an article about rose colour meanings and went like 'I could totally Glimbow-fy this' so here we are. I'll try to update this every day (no promises) as I don't want to separate the chapters too far from each other because they kinda work like one extremely long piece. Also, this fic is truly self-indulgent.

_Why is it always yellow?_

The cool afternoon breeze caresses Glimmer’s hair as she stands amongst the flower bushes in Bright Moon’s garden. Colours surround her in every direction, and yet it feels dull and monotone.

The only ray of light is the yellow rose clutched in her palm, given to her by Bow earlier this morning in an attempt to cheer her up. Or at least, that’s what Glimmer thinks it meant. She had never actually been sure. 

Yellow roses. 

Ever since they were children, he had always given them to her at the most random moments. She couldn’t even remember when the habit had started; it was now such a constant thing that she had taken even those little moments for granted, never even questioning what it meant.

She didn’t know why she was thinking about it now, though. Her grip on the stem tightens, the absence of its thorns telling signs of the care and meticulousness of its giver. 

A month has passed since the portal, and things still weren’t getting any better. 

There were fewer outbursts when she desperately pushed everyone away so she could breathe, or nights when sobs racked her body as she buried herself into Bow’s embrace. Time felt less like a rollercoaster or a whirlwind that gave her motion sickness. 

Instead, everything was becoming numb. And slow... like if she was submerged in water. The days blending together as she attempted to drag herself back up onto her feet, like an unwilling mannequin on puppet strings.

In a few weeks, it would be her 18th birthday. And then she’d be Queen.

The yellow rose on her pillow that greeted her when she woke up helped brighten her day, but the accompanying thudding in her heart at knowing who left it there certainly didn’t.

And so, before the doting, babying and coddling everyone was doing to her these days began, Glimmer escaped to the garden of her castle. 

She’s on a trivial mission to find out what these yellow roses meant once and for all. Anything to get her out of bed. Anything to distract her from the whirlpool in her head, trying to suck her down into nothingness.

“Good morning, your highness,” an old gardener with greying thin hair greets as he spots her standing in front of the rose bushes. He gives her a tender and understanding smile that reflects in his kind brown eyes and says nothing else, going back to trimming the leaves as he peacefully hums.

Glimmer’s thankful. She had already been dealing with too many questions these days. 

She looks around, spotting roses of varying shades. Yellow like the ones in her hand. Then peach ones, blue, coral, white, lavender, pink, and—nestled at the farthest corner of the vast garden, seemingly unattainable—red roses. A beautiful and bold shade that caught the sunlight almost ethereally.

 _So why…_ Glimmer thinks again, looking down at the one in her hand. _Why is it always yellow?_

“The roses are in full bloom this time of the year, luckily,” the gardener says suddenly, making for small talk as he glances in her direction with another calming smile on his weary face. “We get comfort wherever we can. You love roses, don’t you, my princess?”

Glimmer purses her lips. Does she? She had never given it a thought.

“I know because that boy you’re always with,” he chuckles fondly. Glimmer’s gaze snaps towards him at the mention of her best friend. “He plucks the first blooms even when I tell him not to, the little rascal. He only gets away with it because he says they’re for you, and why would a humble gardener ever deny what the princess wants?” 

A gentle and unsure smile curves at the corner of her lips at the image of Bow sneaking around the garden, plucking roses for her and then getting scolded by this mild-mannered old man. 

She doesn’t notice the gardener pause at his task to peer at her curiously. It had been a while since anyone in the castle had seen the once cheerful princess smile.

“You can have as many roses as you want, my dear,” he says, and then reaches out to the yellow roses and plucks the one with the most elaborate bloom. 

The gardener hands it to her and Glimmer takes it delicately alongside the one already in her hand with a grateful smile that doesn’t quite reach her sunken eyes, circled by too many sleepless nights spent crying.

She looks at the two roses in her hand—the new one definitely much brighter than the one Bow gave her and yet she switches their position so the latter is placed on top. 

“Has he…” Glimmer stalls, absently twirling the stem in her fingers. “...has he ever said why he picks the yellow ones? ...like, do they mean anything?”

There’s a slight pause. The sound of the gardener’s snipping, the rustle of the leaves, and the sound of her breathing taking over; it all feels so normal.

“They all have meaning,” the gardener begins, flashing her a goofy grin. “Flowers are sacred, you see. We give them to convey thought and feelings when words fail us. And roses, in particular, symbolize love and romance, which is why they’re my favourite. As you can see for yourself,” he chuckles, gesturing to Bright Moon’s rose-infested grounds.

Her heart clenches at his answer. Grip tightening on the rose stems as her toes curl anxiously. 

_Love and romance._

She stares down at the bright colour in her hands and wills her mind not to give it any meaning. It’s not the time for her to entertain these emotions, and Glimmer’s certain it’s all just a coincidence, and yet...

“Do they mean differently? Each colour, I mean.” 

“Oh, they do, your highness,” the old man answers, not missing a beat. “Yellow roses, for example, mean friendship and affection.”

Her grip on the roses loosens.

The gardener glances her way, a knowing smile on his face. “Not what you were expecting?”

Glimmer frowns, dropping her hands to the side so she’d stop feeling as if the roses were staring up at her, judging her. She wasn’t expecting anything.

_Friendship._

Of course. What else would it be? It’s her and Bow, and it made more sense this way. She doesn’t need any more to complicate her life.

“It _is_ what I was expecting,” she says firmly, leaving no room for argument. “I love the yellow ones,” she then turns her head to the other rose bushes, appreciates each shade but her gaze lingering a second too long at the red ones. 

“And the rest? ... What do the other colours mean?”

&  
  


In the corner of her eye, she sees Bow appear at the end of the hallway leading to the garden. He’s running, panting and frantically looking around before he calms at the sight of her sitting at one of the patio tables, overlooking the beautiful maze of flowers.

“Found her,” she hears him say into the tracker pad in his hand as he approaches her.

Glimmer doesn’t turn her head to look at him as he sits down on the opposite chair. Two yellow roses are on the table between them and another one of a different shade twirling in Glimmer’s hands. He doesn’t seem to notice it at first.

“There you are,” He says it cheerfully—breathlessly but tries to hide it by squaring his strong shoulders. He had probably been running all around the castle in search of her. 

Glimmer turns to look at him. There’s a slight crease on his forehead despite the grin on his face, telling her just how much he had been worried about her. 

Well, they all were. 

These days, her two best friends and the staff of Bright Moon rarely left the princess on her own, and for good reason. Everyone knew Glimmer could be unpredictable when in the throes of emotion, and right now, she’s undoubtedly drowning in it. 

“Where else would I be?” she looks up at him with wide eyes, a lot darker and cloudier than what he was used to.

He rubs his neck. “I just thought you’d still be in bed.”

“I wanted to go for a walk,” she says casually, her gaze returning to the delicate flower in her hand.

“Yeah? How was it?”

Bow lets her talk; he always seems to just let her do the things she wants these days, and it makes Glimmer miss the resistance and the banters. 

She wishes they could pretend things were normal, but it proved too difficult, especially when her new reality felt so absurd.

There are too many pauses now in their interactions. Too many dead airs when he tries to grapple on how to handle her best when she’s this way.

It’s like they’re all walking on eggshells around her or as if she is surrounded by broken glass. Careful words and cautious gestures, lest it break her.

But she’s already broken or there wouldn’t have been eggshells or broken glass in the first place.

“... Well, I don’t think I’ve properly appreciated the gardens before. How come we never hung out here enough? It would’ve been the perfect place to plan battle strategies… or at least have tea, I guess,” she rambles. 

He scoots his chair closer, leans forward so that he can meet her eyes as they talk, but Glimmer turns away to look at the roses instead.

“I also had a nice chat with the gardener.” 

Bow slightly winces at the mention of the old man. “... that’s good. Did he say anything? What did you talk about?”

“Just… the flowers. I think I like him… He has these kind eyes. Also, he takes care of the garden well and clearly loves it,” a pause. “So, I was thinking... maybe you shouldn’t pluck his roses too much?” 

For a moment, she sounds like she’s teasing him. For a moment, Glimmer thinks she sounds like herself.

But then the moment’s gone and as Bow laughs sheepishly and turns to look at her, half-expecting a teasing smirk on her lips; he’s met by her downcast eyes and that constant expressionless face that’s been haunting all of them instead.

The laugh fades away and the distant sound of the snipping and the breeze settles once again in the sudden pause.

“Yeah,” he gulps, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But they cheer you up so some grumpy old man isn’t going to stop me. He can try, but I mean, those joints aren’t going to do much.”

Glimmer feels a smile creep up on her. The weight on her chest is significantly lighter now that Bow’s here. He can think whatever he wants, but for Glimmer, no amount of flimsy flowers can ever cheer her up as much as his mere presence could.

She turns to him and he looks much more cheerful now that he’s finally seen her smile.

“Here,” Glimmer says, gently placing the one in her hand in front of him on the table. “This is for you.”

Bow raises an eyebrow curiously and just stares at the rose she had just given him. Then their gazes connect and he gets all the validation he needs of what she means by the solemn look in her eyes.

Glimmer knows he knows what the colour means.

Bow nods, wordlessly understanding, and then breaks eye contact as he gently takes the peach rose into his fingers.

In the pause, Glimmer hears the distant snipping, the gentle breeze, and Bow’s barely kept sniffles.

These past few months had been hard on him as well, Glimmer knows. Of course, she knows. He’s grieving as well, and she had been more than a nightmare to deal with, especially when every waking moment for her felt like hell.

But he had been patient and loving with her throughout, even when some days he caught the brunt of her thorns just because she knew he’d stay no matter how many times she pricked him. He’d simply snip them away, shower her with care and tend to her until she blooms again. If she ever does.

Bow crosses the space between them and stands in front of her. She merely raises an eyebrow at him, even when her heart is suddenly pounding painfully against her chest. 

… What is he doing?

He breaks off the rose’s thorny stem, places the bloom on her ear, and then bends down to place a grateful kiss onto her forehead.

Glimmer closes her eyes as he does, hands reaching up before she could stop herself to grip his arms and keep her steady. There’s a throbbing strain in the back of her eyes as she feels wetness fill her closed lids.

Peach roses.

She doesn’t want to take anyone for granted ever again. 

“Thank you, Bow... For everything.”

“I know,” he replies.


	2. Orange

Glimmer’s almost asleep on her feet. She trudges back into her room, sleepily rubbing her wet floppy hair dry as she closes the door of her bath. 

The after-party of her coronation had gone past midnight, and when the adults were finally at least a little inebriated, meaning her aunt Casta started breaking moves on the dance floor, Glimmer deemed it late enough to resign herself to bed.

Although her coronation day had started disastrously, her friends had miraculously turned the occasion around and Glimmer found herself even slightly enjoying everyone’s company at the after-party.

Bow not leaving her side even once helped with that. When everyone’s attention became too overwhelming, his charm and inherent extroversion was an appreciated deterrent. 

And when Glimmer whispered her farewell to him and Adora, who was having too much fun with the buffet table, he had insisted on coming back to her room with her.

Now, he’s standing by the window seat in his own set of pyjamas and holding out her old outfit—the purple romper that had definitely seen better days.

The sight of it makes Glimmer’s heart clench, reminding her of all their adventures; adventures that she’d now have to miss in favour of her new duties.

He’s staring at it with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What are you doing?” Glimmer asks, dropping the towel onto her vanity and yawning.

Bow flinches in surprise and turns to her as he hastily folds it. “Where do you want to put this?”

Glimmer contemplates. She isn’t going to wear it again, so… “Just put it in the chest with the rest of the other thin—” the rest of her words trail off into a yawn.

She drops onto her vanity seat and watches Bow through the mirror as he heads over to the corner of her room. As he places her outfit into the chest and closes it, Glimmer feels a sort of mourning.

She almost couldn’t believe her favourite purple romper is now inside her chest of old things. No more comfortable clothes for missions, instead, her closet is now filled with queenly leotards and tights fit for meetings. 

She lets her eyes roam around her room. No more crayon-drawn targets on the walls. No more stuffed toys on the window seat. No more messy, uncombed hair.

Glimmer sighs. 

The next thing she sees are the slightly withering yellow roses in the vase of her table. Then she glimpses Bow’s set-up sleeping bag on the floor, and she smiles. At least, sleepovers are still a thing.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Bow says cheekily, leaning on the wall next to her vanity. She didn’t even notice him come over.

She rolls her eyes and takes her brush. 

“You don’t have a penny.”

“What a polite way of saying I’m poor. Sorry, your majesty, we’re not all born into royalty.”

Glimmer chuckles and she catches the way his grin widens when she does. She’s gotten good at pretending that she’s all better if she has even Bow fooled. 

Glimmer doesn’t have a choice; she’s a Queen now.

She starts brushing her hair when Bow gestures at it with his hand. Glimmer hands him the brush and he goes to stand behind her.

“You’re not poor,” she says, letting her head fall onto her palm sleepily and closing her eyes as Bow brushes her hair gently. “Not when you’re the Queen’s best friend. You can call in a lot of favours.”

Bow chuckles, tutting. “Tsk-tsk. Now, Queen Glimmer, don’t let anyone hear you talk like that. We don’t want to be accused of nepotism, do we?” 

This time Glimmer does laugh and Bow joins her before a sleepy, comforting silence settles in between them as he brushes her hair until it dries.

“Did George and Lance already leave?” she yawns again, her head idly swaying to whichever direction Bow gently pulls at the brush. “I wasn’t able to say goodbye. I hope they had fun.”

“Uhh…” Bow awkwardly chuckles. “Casta actually set up rooms for them in the castle. It’s weird. She and my dads got along well at the party, surprisingly, and from what I heard, they already made plans for Mystacor tomorrow.”

Glimmer frowns. “Are… are they becoming friends? With Aunt Casta?”

Bow shrugs. “Well, my dads are just ecstatic to go to Mystacor with it being ancient and all that, and we know Casta loves touring people around so...”

Glimmer rolls her eyes. “Well, if she’s doing it, then they’re going to take forever. I hope your dads have the patience.”

“Oh, they raised thirteen kids. They’ll be fine; and besides, it’s not them we should be worried about,” Bow sends her a pointed look through the mirror. “The three of them were huddled up, giggling and whispering when I came by their table earlier. It was… an odd sight,” he cringes. “Granted, they were all probably a bit tipsy, but still, I did not like the look on their faces.”

Glimmer shudders at the thought of her aunt running her mouth about all her embarrassing moments to Bow’s dads. 

“Yikes. We should probably do something about that, huh?”

Bow raises an eyebrow at her as if the answer is an obvious ‘duh’. “With Lance and Casta combined, we’ll have our baby pictures plastered on every surface of Etheria!”

Glimmer groans. “Oh no, don’t even joke about it because with Aunt Casta, even that is possible. She’s the worst influence ever. One time, she even got my mom to knit me sweaters and—“ she halts; the image of the mismatched and dreadful sweater that looked more like a rug than clothing that her mother made her barrelled into her head. 

The sweater she spent hours making in her little free time after queen duties. The one Glimmer never wore, nor thanked her for, and had shoved deep within her closet, forgotten.

Bow must’ve seen the sudden absent look that glazed in her eyes because he tenderly smooths his hand over her locks, and the warmth of his palm travelling over her head down to her shoulders snaps her out of her musings.

“Also, who knows what Casta’s been telling my dads? She’s already been giving them all sorts of ideas about us too. I had to avoid their table at the after-party, or they would’ve tag-teamed another interrogation. I can’t believe them,” he complains.

Glimmer wets her lips, taking a couple of deep breaths to clear the memories of her mother in her head before Bow’s words begin to make sense. Then she catches it. 

“Ideas? What ideas?” she asks curiously.

She finds it even more curious when Bow flushes, breaking eye contact with her through the mirror and suddenly finding the strands of her hair even more interesting. 

“Oh, uh… you know…” Bow visibly gulps. “I don’t remember actually.”

Glimmer frowns, and she’s about to push the question when Bow suddenly cheers.

“Ta-da! There, all dry,” he gives her soft hair a good fluffing. “No more squid hair!”

Glimmer scoffs, reaching behind her to pinch his side, and he yelps away, giggling. She takes a look at her reflection and sees he had instinctively fashioned her hair in its old style. Messy, pink fluffs that were blown out of proportion.

She looked so much younger this way. 

Glimmer gestures for the brush and Bow hands it back to her. She silently brushes it to the side and catches the way Bow looks at every movement almost wistfully. 

“I think I like it better this way,” she says; she doesn’t know why she’s explaining.

“Yeah, I know. It suits you! I just thought since you were going to bed…” he trails off, clearing his throat and rubbing his neck almost awkwardly.

After a couple of brushes, her locks are back to its swept aside look. She meets his eyes through the mirror, smiling. 

“See, it’s better, right?”

“Yeah,” Bow smiles back. “You look beautiful.”

Her heart leaps to her throat, and she stammers it back down mentally. This isn’t the first time Bow has complimented her. He has called her beautiful about a hundred times, so really, is now any different? It isn’t, so it made no sense for her to feel this way.

She masks the panic in her chest with a smirk and a playful wink. 

“I know,” she says cheekily.

He snorts, a disbelieving chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Glimmer begins to fix the things in her vanity before heading up to bed. He leans against it, watching her. 

She almost knocks her circlet over the table before Bow swiftly catches it, smugly handing it over to her as she returns his look with a playful glare.

She then stares at the new gold circlet in her hand, tracing the glinting teardrop-shaped ivory crystal at the center. It’s even more sparkly than she could ever hope to be. She moves to it put away in its case, but making contact with the cold metal again after a long relaxing bath only made her stomach lurch.

“This is really uncomfortable,” she says, sighing as she opens its velvet case. “It’s like… a constant awareness that something’s on my head.”

“Well, technically, something _is_ on your head, so that’s very valid.”

Glimmer glares at him. _Smartass._ “No, I mean… like wearing glasses for the first time. It feels out-of-place, and it’s… it’s heavy,” she finishes lamely.

She places the circlet inside the case and drops the magnetic lid with a resounding thud. Now out of her sight, Glimmer feels like she could properly breathe again.

“You know, if your crown ever gets too heavy,” Bow starts. 

He looks serious and Glimmer’s about to deflect the topic before it delved into waters she’s unwilling to swim into when he suddenly smirks. 

“I can always offer to wear it for you.”

Glimmer mirrors his expression. “I’m sure you’ll look dashing.”

“I might even wear it better.”

Glimmer snorts. She’s sure he’ll look good in a crown, sitting on a throne, maybe in Bright Moon’s colours, and… and she shakes her head, not letting her imagination go any further.

She stands up and turns to face him fully for the first time since she got out of her long bath. 

He’s looking at her tenderly, and it isn’t unlike all the other times she’s caught him staring at her before, but Glimmer squirms in place. 

At some point during all the intimate moments these past months, where she had been in the worst states in her life—exposed and brokenly raw—and he had been there to witness and hold her through it all, the pace in which her heart beat around him shifted.

He had always meant the world to her. Perhaps it was only now that she’s fully accepting the gravity of what that actually meant. 

She breaks their gaze and instantly spots the yellow flowers on her table. _Right._

“I’m going to bed,” Glimmer says, a tight smile on her lips. Her fingers twitch anxiously, suddenly overly aware of her skin and how it isn’t touching his. 

Truthfully, she doesn’t want to go too far away from him tonight, and if things with her are still normal as she so desperately wants to believe, she’d simply ask him to sleep beside her on her bed.

But the words are stuck in her throat, and her heart is rebelliously thumping against it.

“You should sleep too… Goodnight Bow,” she says with finality, and just when she’s about to teleport, Bow stops her with a hand on her arm and Glimmer’s heart doesn’t fail to skip a beat. 

She looks at him hopefully before she can even think about what she’s actually hoping for.

“Wait,” he says, looking unsure himself. “I have a surprise for you.”

She could already hear her heart pounding, but Bow’s gentle eyes have her captive that she can’t think of anything else as she anticipates his next words. One beat, then another, but they don’t come.

Glimmer raises an eyebrow. “... Uh, Bow? What is it?”

He blinks. “Oh! Oh yeah, sorry, I spaced out for a moment,” he chuckles sheepishly, looking away as he scratches his neck. “It—It’s in your bed. So, uh, go ahead.”

“I was going to before you stopped me.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I did that.”

“Okay…” Glimmer shakes her head, and then suspiciously looks at him. “This… surprise. Should I be scared?”

Bow snorts, nudging her playfully. “Please, you, scared? Just go up and see.”

After losing her mother, she’s actually scared of so many things now, but his tone is teasing and she doesn’t want to get into all of that. 

Glimmer gives him a quick hug, short enough that she can’t clearly recall every detail, like her mind was getting oddly fixated on nowadays. 

She teleports into bed to see what all the fuss is about, and she should’ve expected it, but it still surprises her. A bouquet of roses on her pillow. Except they aren’t the yellow ones.

Glimmer stares at it, looking intently at the blooms to make sure her eyes aren’t failing her. 

“Beautiful, right? They just bloomed a few days ago,” Bow says from a few feet below.

Glimmer’s still focusing on the darker shade of the petals. She takes the bouquet into her hand and holds them out to the light. They really aren’t yellow, and her heart oddly soars at that.

The colours have changed for the first time ever, and the darker and vibrant shade of it filled her with energy and courage and… hope. That perhaps things are going to have to change now, but maybe sometimes, it’s not always for the worse.

Glimmer gently caresses the blooms with the tip of her finger, and the words break out of the cage in her throat. 

“Bow… will you sleep beside me tonight?”

“Sure!” He answers casually. She hears the rustle of the blanket and pillows and his heavy steps as he hops from one step of her stairs to the next. “I’m coming up.”

Pressing the bouquet onto her chest, she takes a deep inhale. The fragrance lifting some of the sadness clouding her head and chest. He appears on the top step, a grin on his face.

“You like it?”

Glimmer smiles at him. “Yup. Thanks.”

“Great! Because Kyster chased me with garden scissors all around the courtyard when he saw how much I plucked—scoot over?” He asks, settling in the space she gives him as they both lie down on their side to face each other, the bouquet in between them. “That old man can seriously run, like, what do they feed him in the kitchens and where can I have some of that? Anyway, it was worth it.” 

“Pfft. I thought you could handle him?”

Bow looks at her with disbelieving wide eyes. “I thought so too! But Glimmer, if you could’ve just seen him earlier, he looked like he was seriously going to eat me alive! He was feral! I’ve never seen _anyone_ get that angry over a bunch of flowers.”

Glimmer giggles. “What’s this? Master archer and tech expert, not to mention, soldier of the rebellion, Bow, is scared of an old man?” she fakes gasp. “What would the people of Etheria say?”

“The people of Etheria wouldn’t mind. They’d be too grateful that I survived because if something happened to me,” he pauses dramatically. “Who’s going to make sure the new queen doesn’t accidentally blow up the entire kingdom?”

Glimmer glares, reaching back to grab a pillow behind her and slams it towards his face. He sees it a mile away, using his strong arms to block the blow while he laughs.

“You are not _that_ important,” she tries to jab back, but it falls short because of his contagious laughter.

“Am I not, Glimmer?” Bow raises an eyebrow, playfully. “Am I really not? Who’s going to keep picking up your clothes off the floor without me, huh? Would you imagine the news then?” he spreads his palms in the air comically. “JUST IN: Bright Moon loses its queen in a pile of laundry. That’ll be your legac—ouch!”

Glimmer attacks him with the same pillow, a satisfied smirk on her face as she sees it successfully collide with his smug expression. She subdues him under it. Bow’s muffled laughter rumbles through the cotton, and Glimmer feels her own strength wane as giggles erupt in her chest.

“The roses!” 

Glimmer takes a moment to discard the bouquet that has almost suffered both of their weights on the other side of the bed. The sight of its colour making the weight in her chest blossom even more.

“Hey! Be gentle, I almost died for those!” Bow manages to say through a brief relief of the pillow misaligning itself while he struggles.

God. He is so dramatic sometimes.

“What was that? I can’t hear you while you suffocate under this pillow!”

“Murder!” It’s followed by his booming laughter that immediately sends butterflies into her belly. “I’m getting murdered!” 

Glimmer laughs. “Scream all you want, but I have sovereign immunity,” she puts all her weight onto the pillow that is now over Bow’s chest as he struggles to catch his breath in a fit of laughter. 

Glimmer raises a finger almost self-righteously as she recites, “A sovereign cannot commit a legal wrong and cannot be prosecuted without its consent—ahh!”

In one smooth move, Bow flips her on her back as he sits, pointing the pillow at her threateningly like it was one of his arrows. “Now, don’t go acting smart just because you’ve got that _one_ law memorized by heart,” he teases.

She wants to contest that, but he’s right. That is the only law she had made any effort to memorize per word—you know, just in case. But this is a war now between them and admitting that would mean defeat.

Glimmer smirks at him, then in a poof of sparkles, she teleports and crashes onto his back, reuniting him with the bed.

“Magic!” Bow says, sounding betrayed. “You play dirty... All that power has gone to your head,” he says it so dramatically, it sends Glimmer into another trail of giggles.

“Shyeah, where did you think the sparkles came from?”

He turns around, unceremoniously pulls her down beside him and begins to dig his fingers in her most ticklish spots.

“Here!” 

“No!” Glimmer bursts into laughter. 

&

Bow can no longer remember what they were even bickering over, but the louder her laughter gets, the more he goes on. He loves hearing her so happy; unbidden and unshackled by all the heavy emotions that have adorned her face in the last couple of months. 

He misses it. Them, being silly like this.

“sTOp—” she says through bouts of laughter. “My hair! I just bru—haha—brushed it!”

Bow scoffs. “Way to take credit, Glimmer! Very un-queenly.”

When she’s breathless enough from laughing to tap into his hand twice, Bow stops. He places his hands on his hips, a wide grin on his face.

Glimmer lays there for a while, eyes closed, breathless and her laughter calming down into high-pitched giggles. 

“Do you accept defeat?”

Glimmer opens an eye and says stubbornly, “Never.”

And despite her answer, Bow concedes, flopping down beside her, their arms touching as they catch their breath. 

Glimmer heaves a loud sigh beside him.

“You’re so annoying,” she tries to sound mean, but the giggle gives her away.

“Pfft. You love me anyway,” Bow smirks while looking up at the bits of sparkles floating in the air that came from her when she laughed earlier—ones that he hasn’t seen in a while.

He reaches out to touch them with his finger, watching them disappear one by one as he did. Bow’s always so fascinated by them, her sparkles. It sometimes still catches him off guard, realizing how magical his best friend truly is. 

Too occupied by catching the trails of glitter into his hands, Bow doesn’t notice Glimmer grow quiet. 

Two claps from the girl beside him, and they are suddenly drenched in darkness and moonlight. Bow blinks in surprise, the sparkles he’s so focused on now disappearing into the night.

He turns to Glimmer and finds her back now facing him. He frowns, feeling the shift in her mood like a weight on his chest. 

“Glimmer?” He calls out to her, unsurely. “Everything okay?”

Glimmer turns to him, smiling. At least Bow thinks she is. The sudden change in lighting is making it hard for him to actually make out her face.

“Yeah,” she says. “Your shenanigans tired me out.”

Her casual answer calms down the worry in his chest. Another bout of silence settles as Bow stares at her face as it becomes more visible in the darkness. She’s staring at the ceiling now, lost in her own thoughts.

“Sleep time?”

She turns to him. “Sleep time,” she answers, a small smile on her face. Glimmer playfully but gently flicks his nose and turns to her side, away from him. 

“Night, Bow.”

Despite her actions, Bow can’t get rid of the nagging feeling that something’s off, and it makes him inwardly sigh. Moments like these were becoming a normal thing between them—when Glimmer pulls away and Bow hesitates to pester her about things he wants to know.

It used to be that she’s so open around him, willingly sharing even her most ridiculous or childish thoughts. But these couple of months, she had been oddly defensive of her insecurities, even to him, and during these moments, Bow would always decide to give her space. 

Except, he now feels a wall slowly build up in its place, brick by brick. He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t have that many options. He doesn’t want to pressure her into anything, but Bow desperately wants to help.

And followed by her good mood tonight, he finds the courage to try.

“Hey,” he starts softly after a long pause, his voice breaking through the silence of the night. “You asleep?”

&  
  


_You love me anyway._

The words echo into Glimmer’s head as she lies on her side, facing the bouquet of orange roses and feeling its presence amplify the chaos inside her.

Hearing those words from him instantly sent her into an internal panic. He couldn’t have known, could he? Of course not. Even Glimmer isn’t exactly sure herself what this emotion was that was pestering her. She doesn’t want to name it. 

Bow was merely kidding, and he meant those words in an entirely different way than how her ears had initially heard it. But it didn’t fail to make her heart race.

What if she’s obvious? Could he see it in her face? Did he know? He can’t know. It’ll make things awkward, and he wouldn’t know how to let her down on top of everything she’s already going through, and it’ll make him so uncomfortable.

Then she’d lose even _him_. Tonight was so good—the first time in so long that she felt any semblance of being alive and happy again, and it just solidified in her head that she can’t lose this. Bow’s friendship. It’s her lifeline, and she’d throw whatever she’s feeling to the sharks if it meant she could keep clinging to him. 

It’ll be fine. She’ll figure this out on her own, and it’ll never have to peek through the surface. Glimmer glimpses at the orange roses in front of her.

Orange and yellow. Remember that, Glimmer. She says in her head. It isn’t nearly the colour that would convince her to let these feelings have free reign of her. It’s a few shades too off.

“Hey,” he suddenly says, and her heart leaps. “You asleep?”

Glimmer takes a moment to compose herself, but she doesn’t move. Perhaps she can pretend to have fallen asleep.

“Glimmer?”

Something in his voice sounds unsure and small, and she decides she can’t do it. She can’t leave him hanging. When he calls out to her, every fiber of her being begs her to answer.

“Hm?”

“Can you turn around?”

Glimmer lets out a groan she tries to sound like a complaint if only to mask the growing panic in her chest. Late-night talks. No, she’s definitely not up for that tonight. Not when she feels like she’s skating on thin ice.

But she does turn around, tries to play it casually so they don’t have to talk about anything serious.

“Ugh, what now?” 

Despite her lighthearted and teasing approach, Bow looks slightly nervous, and that makes her even more anxious.

“So…” he starts. “Do you… want to talk about today?”

Glimmer gulps. “What about it?”

“Today... It was a lot, wasn’t it?”

It was. From the moment she woke up, the reality of finally getting crowned after months of dreading it to seeing her mother for the last time even through just a hologram… it was a lot. 

But the latter part of the night helped ease some of the weight on her shoulders, especially with Bow, who could almost magically make everything better just by being there.

But of course, with every high, there’s a need to come down, and it became harder and harder for Glimmer each time to face the truth at the bottom. She feels the weariness of the day in her bones, the weight of sleep hanging on her eyelids, but with Bow so close to her in the darkness and speaking to her so gently, it’s enough to keep her mind awake and her blood pumping.

“Yeah…” she answers. “But you and Adora helped.”

“I’m glad,” Bow smiles, then he breaks eye contact. “You know you can talk to me about everything, right, Glimmer?”

Not anymore. She had to go and mess it up, but still, Glimmer returns his smile. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I would listen. Whatever it is. You don’t have to hesitate or worry. Or hide anything, I—” he stutters. “I want to be there for you, through anything—everything. Okay?”

“I know. And I want you to be there,” she reassures, taking his hand. “You’ve helped so much already. Today alone…” she trails off.

This time, he wraps her in an embrace, his face gently nuzzling into her hair. Glimmer freezes, now unable to remember how she fit in their hugs when they used to piece together so effortlessly, like two halves of a whole.

Her heart’s beating so loudly, she’s afraid she’s close enough that he could hear how fast it was racing.

“I just want to make this easier for you,” Bow whispers, pressing an affectionate kiss on the top of her head.

“You are,” she says around the lump in her throat, through the sudden ache in her chest. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

There’s silence for a while, and Glimmer thinks he has fallen asleep before his arm shifts and his hand comes into her vision holding a single orange rose from the bouquet.

“You said earlier…” He starts, voice low, as if he had reserved the next few words just for her ears. “That the crown felt out-of-place… But I don’t think so. I think it suits you… I know the circumstances aren’t the most ideal, but Glimmer?”

He pulls away so he can meet her eyes, and Glimmer almost couldn’t bear the proximity while she feels so vulnerable.

“I know you’ll be a great Queen.”

He says it so earnestly and a lone tear escapes from his eye down to his cheek and onto the pillow under his head. At the sight of it, Glimmer feels her chest constrict and her vision become cloudy almost instantly.

“Ugh, Bow,” she groans, attempting to wipe away the wetness from her eyes. “ _Stop_. Don’t you dare start. Can’t we just go to sleep like normal people?”

Bow tearily smiles. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it… Just thinking about today—… I’m just so proud of you, Glimmer. When I saw you earlier at the coronation, on the throne…” he trails off, heaving a deep sigh as emotions play on his face, and Glimmer wishes he had finished that sentence. “And I meant what I said earlier, if that crown gets too heavy, I’ll be here to carry it with you, okay? I’ll be here. So please... let me help? I want to help.”

Glimmer wants him to stop speaking before his words make her spiral into another breakdown, but at the same time, she wants to hear more in the off-chance that he says something different. Something new; something that she might want to hear.

“You do help,” Glimmer buries her face into his shoulder. “You help so much,” she whispers, and she hates that that somehow feels like a lie because it’s not.

She feels him press a kiss on her head again and Glimmer wraps her hand tightly around his hand, both of them clutching onto the lone orange rose.

Bow sniffs and holds onto her tighter. She misses the days when they held each other, just breathless with laughter and without the mess of emotions now swirling inside her. But she decides to stop mourning her childhood; the yellows of her youth had darkened to a mellow orange, and yet Glimmer doesn’t fully regret it.

“You’re so brave, Glimmer. I’m so proud of you,” Bow whispers into her ear again, his breath moistening over her earlobe, and Glimmer shivers at the sound of his voice, so unstable and layered thick with emotion. 

“I’m so proud.”

She bit down on a cry, now fingering the orange petals lying just below her chin. 

“I know,” she replies.


	3. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one is set near the end of season 4 and like mid-season 5 respectively, so that means we're stepping into angst land for a bit. Yay, fun!
> 
> Also, this chapter is largely inspired by @TippenFunkaport's Paperwork and Proposals where she made Bow chuck something in the fireplace—which HURT me btw—so here we are.

Glimmer pops into the darkness of her study in a shower of sparkles and unceremoniously leans against the door, taking an audible breath in and then letting it out in a weary sigh.

She absentmindedly draws a rune in the air, and the fireplace and candles floating around the room light up, basking the messy room in a warm and almost ethereal glow.

Papers and documents are scattered across her large wooden desk. Worn clothes haphazardly thrown over the couch and some on the floor. Unfinished snacks on the coffee table. 

Glimmer can’t remember the last time she entered her room other than to grab some fresh change of clothes. This study had been her snake hole for weeks, and she found no reason to keep it tidy.

She’s the only one who ever came in here anymore, anyway. Otherwise, it would’ve been kept clean. 

Glimmer shakes her head. “Bad brain, no bad thoughts. Okay, Glimmer. What to do?”

She had just escaped another dragging meeting with the pompous council of Mystacor. They drilled her all night with judgemental stares and questioned every other word that came out of her mouth. Now that Salineas had fallen into the hands of the Horde, the other kingdoms’ trust and confidence in Bright Moon to lead the rebellion had also begun to wane.

At least Glimmer had one constant thing in her life: things falling apart. 

“Freaking pretentious academics. Just because they read books. The nerve,” she mumbles to herself. “And why use big words if no one can understand them, anyway? Isn’t communication supposed to, I don’t know, help things make more sense instead of the other way around? I swear, they just do it to spite my age.” 

Glimmer rants, taking out a few books from the bookshelf attached to the wall and teleports herself to the couch covered with blankets and pillows she stole from her room. This couch has been her designated bed for weeks now, preferring the tiny space it offered than her actual bed that felt empty and cold with only her lying on it.

“I’ll show them. I’m not illiterate! I read books, too—And I know the law! How could they even think otherwise? I’ve had queen lessons since I was seven! Right, Bow?”

Glimmer spins around out of habit and half-expects Bow and Adora to be listening to her ranting with a half-amused and half-sympathetic look.

The silence and cold draft of an empty overused room are the only answer she gets.

Glimmer grits her teeth. Of course, they wouldn’t be there. They all had things to do now. And she, for the meantime, had to get herself well-versed with jargons before her next meeting with those sorcerers and their dictionary-for-mouths.

But one look at the text-heavy first page of this nonsense book about magic systems in Etheria and Glimmer feels her migraine from earlier revive itself. 

“I can’t do this,” she groans. “Okay, breathe. You know how to do that at least, right, your majesty? Inhale, exhale. Good. Now, you just have to repeat that a couple of thousand times to infinity! And then let’s just…” she trails off, letting her stiff joints relax and sink into the softness of the couch. 

“Maybe lay down for a sec? Just for a second, I promise.”

Lying there, Glimmer finally feels every aching muscle, the heaviness on her shoulders, and realizes that she is just too tired to deal with anything anymore. She closes her eyes and feels the claws of sleep reach out to her, but her mind fights stubbornly against it. _God damn it all_. She can’t even have sleep, the most basic human need, and that fuels the frustration she’s been stomping away at the entire day. It manifests as a knot in her throat and as unshed tears on the rim of her eyes.

She shot up into a sitting position before even one drop could even think about falling.

“Nope! No sleeping. We have work to do,” she looks around and spots the side table, with a pitcher of water on top, nestled in the corner. “Water! Right, right, let’s drink some water. Yeah, water always helps.” 

Glimmer teleports towards it and pours herself a glass from the pitcher that’s definitely too fancy to just hold water. Maybe she should try filling it with something else… Glimmer shakes her head. She throws back another glass for good measure and then another until the gnawing in her stomach disappears. 

“Good. Great taking care of yourself, Glimmer. Now, to your desk—”

With a burst of sparkles, she appears in front of her messy desk. She lands on her seat and inches it forward; the wood creaking loudly in the silence as she drags it on the marbled floor.

“—Hello, tons of letters and what else shit, we meet again—”

She freezes. 

On top of the pile of papers and leather-bound books is a bouquet of roses. For a moment, she merely stares at it, confused, before she remembers that this was a thing they used to do. Her and Bow and the whole giving roses thing. It used to be a thing. _Their thing_.

It felt like eons ago since the last time, and looking back at it, Glimmer almost recalls the moments like a fever dream, or like a past so out of reach that it now feels like a fantasy.

Her heart sinks at the realization that so much has changed since then and not all in the way she wanted to.

But some things remain the same, too.

Like these roses. Always the yellow ones.

 _Friendship_.

A word that used to fill her with this inexplicable and uplifting rush of energy, now it only made her stomach sour. She isn’t on good terms with any of her friends, not even… Not even Bow, who spent the entirety of his time playing sidekick to Adora and spending days out of the castle for missions. And that’s all fine; Adora needs all the help she can get. 

At the thought of the blonde woman, Glimmer clenches her fist. She doesn’t want to think about Adora right now. 

The roses that used to be a pleasant surprise for her now just felt like rubbing salt on a wound.

After all that kidnapping fiasco courtesy of Sea Hawk, her and Bow’s interactions had grown strained and awkward. And after days of almost intentionally avoiding each other in the hallways and Bow holing himself up fixing Mara’s ship, he’s suddenly sending her flowers? Of friendship.

And yet they felt farthest from friends right now. In her life, Glimmer had never remembered feeling so alone, not even during her parents’ deaths. It’s a good thing she had too much to do. If she doesn’t think about it, it won’t bother her. 

She takes the bouquet of roses and lets a bit of her poison seep through the cracks, the same poison that corrupted her tongue and pushed her to say those _awful_ words to Adora. She marches towards the fireplace and throws the flowers into the flames.

She’d much rather have him beside her than his stupid roses. So much for friendship. 

Glimmer takes a minute to look at the roses drowning in the sea of fire. And for a second, engulfed in the red flames, Glimmer can pretend that the petals are the shade her heart longs for.

She turns her back to it. If only getting rid of the feelings in her chest she had long stopped denying is as simple as throwing it in the fire and watching it burn. 

If only she knew how to get rid of it, then maybe she can find the courage to mend things between her and Bow without feeling like she’s lying to both him and herself—without feeling like her insides were turning themselves inside out with every interaction and every touch.

But she doesn’t know how. It just seems like she knows nothing these days. 

“Now, Glimmer, what were you supposed to do again?” she says to herself. “Oh right, more work.”


	4. Coral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote a big chunk of this which is why it took so long, and umm, this is probably the most emotional chapter but also satisfying! I guess, at least for me. That's all!

Her hand hovers over his back.

It’s the third night in a row. The closer they get to Prime’s ship, the worse it’s getting.

A nightmare wakes her up again in the middle of the night, and unlike the previous times before, Glimmer doesn’t immediately realize that she’s no longer in her prison. Frantically looking around, it takes a minute before she recognizes the tainted wall panels of Mara’s ship—a contrast to the Velvet Glove’s sleek interior that was perpetually streaked with the haunting glow of neon green.

The ever-present hum of First One’s tech comforted her still disoriented mind, reminding her that she’s far away now from the eerie silence of Prime’s corridors.

Yet nothing was more comforting than the presence of the person beside her, sleeping on the other side of the makeshift beds they had pushed together to make room for everyone. Tonight, though, it was just him and her and the distance between them.

Her hand trembles as it hovers just inches above his shoulder.

Her nightmare of cold metallic claws, piercing eyes and a haunting tone that told her of tragedies, accusations and veiled threats returned to her head at full force. Memories of ships filling Etheria’s beautiful skies and how she had brought doom upon everyone and everything she loved.

And in her dreams, they just never win. No matter what they do.

Bow’s curled on his side, away from her and softly snoring. He’s almost dangling at the edge, occupying as little of the bed as possible. Even in his sleep, he stays so far away from her. 

And she’s the only one to blame for it, isn’t she?

Glimmer closes her hand into a fist. She shouldn’t bother him about this. Not when things between them are still so fragile and he had only just begun talking to her again without snapping or frowning or pushing her away.

Even after her apology, they’re still not back to their usual level of intimacy and friendship, and Glimmer doesn’t know if she can handle any more forms of rejection right now.

So at the very least, Glimmer closes the distance between them and lies down on her side, mirroring his position as she faces his strong back. 

She settles on timing her rapid breathing to his, watching with teary eyes as his back rises and falls peacefully. She takes a deep inhale of his comforting scent and finds solace in the bit of his presence that she could reach. 

Now just inches behind him, Glimmer lets her hand hover over his back once again. So close and yet so far. This is an image she’s become well-acquainted with recently—his back to her, and it all replays in her head. How he had roughly pulled his hand from her grasp. How he turned away from her minutes after catching her in the void of space. How he yelled at her in a moment of frustration, and how she deserved each and every one of his rejections, especially after what she did.

And suddenly, even being this close to him felt like a crime. Like a stolen moment or a lost privilege she no longer had any right to.

She pulls her hand back and clenches it against her chest, mirroring the way her heart tightened into a knot. 

She shouldn’t be a bother. It’s just a silly nightmare, and she’s been able to handle them on her own before.

Glimmer sits up, stands on wobbly legs and makes her way just outside of the bunk room, arms wrapped around herself. Sleep won’t come easy after that, and Glimmer doesn’t have the courage to close her eyes and find out what other ill-fated scenarios her mind has in store for her. 

She might as well keep herself busy.

“Glimmer?”

Glimmer flinches, almost slamming the door of the bunk room in her surprise. She turns around, eyes wide and a bit frantic. She meets Adora’s concerned gaze, the blonde woman in midstep at the other end of the corridor leading to the control room.

“Oh, hi, Adora,” Glimmer sends her a tight smile. “Morning.”

The blonde leans back to look at what Glimmer presumes is the clock. “Your turn isn’t until a few more hours.”

“Uh yeah, I couldn’t sleep,” she laughs nervously. There’s a slight pause as Adora gives her a once over.

“Everything okay? You look a bit shaken.”

Her eyes zone in on Glimmer’s still shaking hands and so the young queen hastily clasps them behind her back, clearing her throat.

“Yeah, it’s—uh, just had a nightmare. It’s silly! Nothing concerning or anything,” she waves her hand dismissively. “But I’m already awake, so… do you think we should take an inventory of the supplies we have left?”

Adora scratches her neck in thought. “Uh, I guess but—”

“Great! I’ll go do that! Just call out if you need anything, and,” she drags out the word, and awkwardly jabs her thumb at the direction of the galley. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Wait, Glimmer—” Adora calls out. “Do you want my help?”

Glimmer subconsciously glances back towards the direction of the bunk room, the door ajar to the darkness and the soft sound of snoring from within. She shakes her head ‘no.’

“No, I can handle it.” Without another word or thought, Glimmer rushes into the large galley, not sparing a second more to see Adora’s reaction.

Inside, boxes crowd every corner, dust on the surface and floating amidst the cold draft of the ship. The metallic cupboards are open, and utensils and food packs carelessly cluttered the countertop. Parchments and papers cover the desk in the middle of the room.

Everything was chaotic from them just hastily rummaging for whatever they could eat. It’s messy and disorganized and... comforting. A far cry from the almost clinical neatness of her prison under Prime’s capture. The distraction the mess offered is more than what she needed.

And so again, Glimmer finds herself alone and with something to do.

&

Bow wakes up unceremoniously, seemingly without reason, in the middle of the night with a racing heart and sweat forming on his forehead.

An arm is outstretched on his side and he vaguely remembers searching for something beside him in his sleep and getting increasingly distressed over not finding it.

He turns to his side, and realization dawns upon him. 

He shoots up in a sitting position, his mind falling into a frenzy at the absence of Glimmer beside him, and in his state, he thinks it had all been a dream. 

That they hadn’t actually saved her yet, and the memory of him catching her in space and feeling her weight crash into his was just some sick coping mechanism his mind had conjured.

He turns in bed, feet landing on the metal flooring, the chill immediately seeping into his bare skin, but he doesn’t mind it. Not bothering to slip on his boots, Bow’s already out of the door and rushing into the control room. Eyes frantically looking around for a clump of pink hair, or wide eyes that gazed at him hopefully, or her short frame pacing across the room, anything—any semblance of her he’d take it. Just so he knows she’s here and safe and with him and not _there_.

But he finds nothing but an empty control room and Darla’s lights blinking irregularly on the control panel. He marches towards it, looks at where they had set their destination, and his heart immediately sinks. 

Prime’s ship. They’re _still_ going to Prime’s ship and not back home. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t have been all a dream—

“Whoa, Bow—“

Bow crashes straight into Adora as he turns around. 

“Adora,” he breathes out.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Adora frowns. She takes both of his arms and squeezes them. 

He’s struggling to find the right arrangement of words, one where he doesn’t sound like he’s losing his mind.

Adora purses her lips. “... Did you two fight again?”

“What?”

“You and Glimmer. She was acting weird earlier, and well, now you are too—“ Adora hesitates. “Did something happen? I mean, you shouldn’t be up until a few more hours.”

Bow had tuned out the rest of her words as relief flooded into his veins like he was drenched in cold water. The pounding in his chest not unlike if he had fallen off a cliff only to find a safety net at the bottom.

And then finally, without fear blocking his thoughts, memories rush back, the dots connecting instantly. Right. He remembers now. They’re heading back for Catra, and Glimmer is safe somewhere on this ship, not beside him. Bow’s fingers twitch, itching to reach for something. 

“Where is she? Wh-why was she acting weird?”

“Galley. I don’t know. She said something about a nightmare and then rushed away before I could ask,” Adora scratches her head awkwardly. “It kinda felt like she wanted to be left alone, so I didn’t follow her. But should I have followed her? I’m a bit worried, but I don’t wanna come off too strongly. I mean, we just started getting along again and—”

Bow frowns at her response, disappointment and frustration settling in the pit of his stomach. If she had a nightmare bad enough to get out of bed, why hadn’t she woken him up and said something? He had been literally sleeping beside her. 

She would’ve curled beside him without hesitation then, before everything. During the days after the portal, Bow got well-acquainted with Glimmer nudging herself into his embrace in the middle of the night. Her shaking form calming whenever he’d finally wake up enough to tighten his hold on her.

She had always found comfort in him. Before everything. Now, it seems, he’s just no longer enough. 

“—you should go check on her,” Adora finishes her ramble, and Bow realizes that he had once again tuned her out.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” 

Adora stares at him, looking like she wanted to say more but held her tongue. “Yeah, I mean. She’s Glimmer and you’re Bow! Both of you always seem to know what to say to each other and,” she sighs. “I don’t, most of the time, anyway. Feelings are not my strong suit. And it feels like this is about that. Although, sometimes I do get it right but only, like, sometimes, but that’s—” she waves her hand in the air. “That’s not my point... Okay, but what was my point? Oh, and _you_ also seem out of it. By the way, are you fine? What’s wrong?”

Bow all but blinks as Adora prattles on, further flustering herself. He’s definitely not in the right mindset to follow Adora’s typical jumping thoughts. But he understands the underlying meaning of her words. The blonde was stuck in the middle of the still present tension between him and Glimmer, probably feeling some type of responsibility to act as a mediator. 

He puts her out of her misery.

“I’m fine, Adora,” Bow reassures. “I’ll go check on Glimmer, okay?”

She looks relieved. “Great. That’s really great! Aaaand I’ll stay right here.”

Bow frowns slightly at that, not realizing why that’s an important part for her to highlight. He feels like there’s an underlying meaning there, but he merely shakes his head, letting it go.

Adora gives him a supportive thumbs-up before he heads towards the galley, each step closer echoing like a pounding rhythm in his chest.

He had never felt so anxious being alone in a room with her before, but Bow knows the wall still between them was not Glimmer’s making alone. And it’s time they dismantle it. It’s time he starts trying as well.

&

Bow peers into the kitchen hesitantly, his eyes scouring the stuffy space for her. He hears her before he sees her and his gaze shifts towards the nook in the corner of the room that served as their makeshift pantry.

Rarely anyone came in here other than to grab whatever looked decent enough to eat or use, as proven by the still dysfunctional blinking lights overhead and the stale air.

The sight of Glimmer all alone under the dim lighting slumped on the floor with boxes half her size surrounding her immediately doesn’t sit well with him. 

She’s looking at two packets in her hand, sniffing one of them before she grunts, throwing one towards a pile of packets and discarding the other one inside one box. 

Mumbling to herself in an almost annoyed tone, Glimmer reaches for another box, toppling it over so that vacuumed sealed bags flooded the space beside her. She breathes out a disgruntled sigh.

As Bow watches her, his heart clenches painfully. Looking at Glimmer always made him feel something. Joy. Nostalgia. And more recently, frustration and regret.

Right now, though, it simply felt like coming home after days of weary travelling. The space already somewhat unfamiliar although nothing has changed so drastically, and yet there’s this thrill of rediscovering every nook and cranny all over again. With a new set of eyes changed by experience.

Seeing her after all this time felt like that. He’s so familiar with almost everything about her, and yet inside him, it feels so different.

He leans against the doorway, just watching her intently. Not even a moment later, like some kind of ability, she senses him enough to turn around. 

She flinches in surprise at seeing him, letting out a yelp as she places a hand over her chest. 

“Bow, you scared me,” she says. “...What are you doing up?”

“What are _you_ doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says, turning back to the packets in her hand and frowning at the label. “So I thought… might as well make myself useful.”

“Uh-huh,” he says noncommittally, making his way towards her. He bends down to reach for a packet beside her before she gently slaps his hand away. 

“No! Don’t touch anything,” she says, splaying out her hands. “I’ve got a system and you’ll mess it up.”

Bow stares pointedly at the clumps of packets and toppled boxes surrounding her. Those clumps looked identical, so were the contents of those boxes.

He raises a dubious eyebrow. “A system, huh?”

Glimmer glares at him instinctively, but the moment their eyes meet, it doesn’t hold and she hurriedly looks away. Bow purses his lips, a bit disappointed. It felt like wisps of their lost rhythm just then. 

“What’s that pile there?”

“Uhh… Edible stuff,” she says unsurely.

That’s already… questionable. Bow then points to the pile on the other side of her. “And that one?”

“Food!” she says more confidently, hands on her hips.

Bow snickers. “Is there any reason those two are separated?”

Glimmer blinks and then frowns. He watches her process what he just pointed out.

“Well, yeah—Wait.”

“Like, do we have edible stuff that’s not food? A wrench, maybe?”

It clicks, and she scowls at him, groaning as she merges the two clumps begrudgingly. He chuckles under his breath, feeling the knot in his chest tighten further.

“Or maybe a chewable toolbox.”

“Oh shut up,” she groans at him.

“Pretty effective system. Do I even wanna know how the rest are sorted?”

“Ugh. You’re not helping, like at all.” She crosses her arms sullenly and throws a glare in his direction.

“You’re not letting me, remember?” He crosses his arms back, smugly. And fully facing her like this, the knot tightens even more that he no longer knows how to unravel it.

He missed her. So much. Her expressions, her way of thinking that sometimes only he can comprehend, her reactions to his teasing. It’s all still the same. And if Bow didn’t know better, he might’ve thought nothing changed.

But he knows better. The feeling in his chest knows better.

She breaks their connection, clearing her throat as once again they inch towards normalcy, but she pulls away. 

“I can handle sorting a few boxes, okay. Go do something else, like I don’t know, tease those cupboards since you’re so determined to do that,” she playfully nudges him away with an elbow to his leg, dismissing him. “Besides, this will be sooo much easier if I can just read First One’s writing.”

“Should I get Adora?”

Glimmer shakes her head passionately. “I can do this! Sniffing them works—”

“Glimmer, no, th—”

She put one to her nose before he could get a word out, taking an inhale that immediately transformed into a pretty forceful sneeze. Loud enough that it jerks her head back and she’s left to blink in surprise.

“—ere’s dust everywhere…” He finishes too late, looking at her in exasperated affection. “Okay, I’m getting Adora, enough of that.”

“No!” She grabs his leg, stopping him. “Look, I’ve brought this upon myself and so I’ll handle it myself. I don’t want to bother anyone, and Adora especially, for something as silly as this.”

She turned her back to him as she said the words, returning to stacking the sealed bags into more organized columns of four.

Bow frowns. That felt loaded, and he knows Glimmer well enough to know things constantly in her mind unwittingly slip through the nuances of her actions or words. And just what was the most recent thing that would occupy her thoughts?

He silently sighs, moving back to sit on one chair at the table in the middle of the room. He watches her again, turning it over in his head how he’s going to breach the palpable tension between them. Adora’s wrong; he doesn’t always know the right thing to say to her, especially now. _Something_ shifted between them; he can’t exactly put a finger on it yet, but _something._

Suddenly he remembers days spent apart from each other, things they’ve experienced without the other by their side. They’ve missed out on so much, and now there are bigger gaps he has to try and cross. Cracks that look so daunting that sometimes it feels like they are unmendable.

The thought irritates him again. They took the wrong turn on so many crossroads and he had almost… he had almost—Bow shakes his head. Looking over at the table for something to distract him, he finds parchments and papers of various colours. Without thinking, he reaches out for one specific shade.

“Adora said,” he starts, feeling himself tense up, but he masks it by folding the paper in half. “You had a nightmare? … You’re still having those?”

He chances a glance at her, sees her pause for a moment before she stands up to place a stack of sealed bags on the kitchen countertop. He can’t see her face from where he’s seated, and he wishes he can, if only to gauge her reaction.

“Uh…” Glimmer says distractedly, counting the bags. He doesn’t know why when it’s clear there’s only four there. “They never really went away. Y’know, with the stress and stuff, it’s only natural. But I can handle them better now! Like, no big deal.”

He hums at her dismissive tone, pursing his lips and folding another corner of the paper. It’s beginning to take shape.

“No big deal,” Bow repeats silently. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”

Another pause and Glimmer sighs. “It’s just… we’re heading back to Prime’s ship, and it’s making me a little uneasy, that’s all.”

A little uneasy is an understatement. Since they rescued her, he’d subtly watch her fidget constantly, looking out into the void of space in deep thought while her arms wrap around herself, almost protectively. A new habit of hers, Bow noticed, one he is not fond of.

They still don’t know what happened to her on that ship. What the Horde could’ve possibly done to her and Bow feels himself grow angry again just imagining the possibilities.

The image of her just in the same room with that monster he has only seen in holograms fills him with dread and something that’s not hatred, but so close to it.

He almost accidentally tears off a piece of the paper. Bow smooths over the crease. “Do you want to talk about what happened in Horde Prime’s ship?”

Another pause. Too many gaps. Too many pauses. Bow folds another corner.

“I just stayed in my cell most of the time. It’s just hours of that.” She walks back to the boxes, carrying an armful of packets this time.

“What about when you weren’t in your cell?”

She drops them. The pile of sealed plastic bags hit the metal floor in a resounding thud, making the dust fly everywhere. Glimmer groans as she bends down to pick them up one by one.

“Ah shit, great,” she huffs out. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, got it,” Glimmer rises, arm filled once again with bags and she deposits them on the countertop with a grunt. This time she doesn’t count them, instead, she simply stares.

“Glimmer?” He turns to look at her, the rolled piece of paper tightly wound between his fingers. Finally, he can see her face. 

“... Did they hurt you?”

For a split second her face contorts in pain before the expression disappears entirely as she shakes her head. “No. The clones would just… sometimes escort me to have dinner with Horde Prime, or go to some other part of the ship. Listen to him talk, which he loves to do,” she rolls her eyes, and Bow would think little of it if not for the way Glimmer’s hand now clenched and unclenched around her arm anxiously. 

“Not that bad, I guess. It could’ve been… a lot worse. Catra being there helped too,” she says with finality, and then she’s back to counting the bags as if they had merely talked about the weather.

No longer the girl who acted before she thought and who would overlook the people around her in favour of her goals. Instead, she faced even him with an amicable mask and walked around them as if they could crack any moment if she stepped too heavily or that they’d turn away if she pushed too far. 

Bow scowls as he folds the paper for the last time and stares at the origami he had just finished on the table. 

“Why won’t you let me help?”

Glimmer meets his gaze across the room, smiling and not quite hearing the meaning in his words. “Because I can handle it just fine. And besides, you’re better off doing… _what_ are you doing, anyway?”

She approaches him and falters in her step as she finally sees what’s in his hand.

“Origami,” Bow answers. “We used to love doing these, remember? And here,” he hands his latest creation to her. “I used to give these to you too… remember?”

A paper rose. It’s merely a pathetic mimicry of the actual thing, much like their interactions nowadays as they try to find their footing in their now unstable dynamic.

“Yeah… I remember,” Glimmer says sadly, but she doesn’t take it. Instead, she shows him her hands that were slightly darkened by dust and soot. “My hands are dirty; it’ll get ruined.”

Glimmer takes a seat across from him and Bow places the rose on the table between them.

“What colour is that?” She asks, her eyes not leaving the rose despite not reaching out to touch it. The corner of its petals were delicately shaped by careful fingers and on the old metal table, against the dull silver and dim lighting, they looked like a dull mix of orange, yellow, pink and red.

“Coral,” he answers.

She snorts. “That’s not a colour.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it is.”

“No,” Glimmer argues, dragging the word. “I’ve never heard of it, and so I _know_ that colour is not a coral.”

Despite himself, a smile quirks at the edge of his lips. “Say that again?”

She frowns. “Coral is not a colour.”

“That’s not what you said the first time.”

“Uh, of course it is,” she sounds a bit annoyed now. “What else would I say?”

“You said colour is not a coral.”

“No, I did not,” she says, indignant.

“You so did.”

She scoffs, waving him away. “Ugh, whatever. And even if, let’s say I did—”

“You did—”

“—which I did not!” A glare. “It’s not like I’m wrong.”

Bow scoffs. “Because you’re _never_ wrong, right? And how’s that going for you so far?”

It’s out of his lips in a teasing tone before he fully grasps its implication. And Bow’s merely referring to her obviously ineffective ‘system’ as proven by the seemingly more disorganized piles of sealed bags versus when they were tucked away in their respective boxes. But the jab is too layered, just like everything between them these days, and it comes out sounding more mean than he intends.

It’s no longer as harmless as it used to be back when they would bicker back and forth like this, and Bow realizes that when Glimmer’s casual smile immediately drops at his words, her eyes slightly widening. She breaks eye contact and hastily stands, her hips hitting the edge of the table and shaking it. The impact causes the origami rose to fall over the edge.

Bow’s heart sinks when it does, and it’s almost like seeing more cracks and gaping holes appear between them just then.

“Glimmer—”

“Okay, so Bow, I got this covered,” Glimmer rambles, making a beeline for the boxes again, away from him. “You should go back to bed. Like, it’s really early, and you’re up first to watch over the control room after Adora so—”

“—Glimmer, I’m sorry,” he sighs, annoyed at himself. He follows her. “I was just teasing—”

“What? What, no. What are you sorry about? Bow, don’t be ridiculous.” She’s back to rummaging through the boxes, opening and closing the tops but not quite accomplishing anything. She tries to sound casual, but her voice is already a pitch higher and Bow just knows her too well.

“That’s not—I didn’t mean,” he takes a deep breath, running his palm over his face. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

Glimmer frowns. “Upset? I’m not upset. And would you please stop saying you’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about,” she says, almost tripping over a pile on the floor. She grunts. “I’m just a bit stressed because look at this,” she gestures to the entire kitchen. “I’ve made more of a mess of things instead of actually _fixing_ anything like I was supposed to!”

Bow’s heart races at her words. He could feel it. Like a daunting wave coursing through the sea and heading straight towards them. When it crashes to the shore, he could only hope it didn’t sweep them further apart.

“Okay, then let me help,” Bow counters. “Let’s fix this together and it’ll be so much easier!”

“You’ve done plenty enough, and I caused this alone so I have to try to make up for it and—”

“Glimmer, would you _please_ just let me help?” Bow’s tone is a pitch higher now as well because, after everything, she is still _so_ stubborn. “Stop pushing me away.”

&

“Stop pushing me away.”

Her heart halts at his words, said in this defeated and exasperated tone that he had only used at her after Salineas got taken. The familiar sound of it causes her heart to drop.

He’s disappointed in her again.

Glimmer finally turns around to face him. He’s looking at her, almost sadly.

“What? Bow, I’m not pushing you away,” she says, now just as frustrated with herself. “If anything, I am just…” Her hand is trembling and so she clasps them together. “I’m trying very hard not to lose you again.”

He scowls. “What? You never lost me—” he shakes his head. “Look, I just needed space, but everything’s better now. We’re working at it, right? Well, at least you said we will, but then you’re just back to how things were before.”

“Which is how exactly?” she retorts.

“This!” He gestures wildly between them. “You, keeping everything to yourself when we used to be honest with each other about everything. When you used to come to me for everything, but now—” he huffs. “ _How_ are we supposed to fix things if you’re insisting on this—” he sweeps his palm over an invisible barrier in front of him. “This wall!”

He’s angry at her again. She can’t seem to do anything right, and this all just serves as fuel to her already insurmountable frustration about everything. Glimmer finally explodes.

“Because!” She shouts before she takes a deep breath to compose herself. When she opens her eyes again, this time, she’s looking straight at him. “Because I’m too much, Bow. I’m a lot! I overwhelm people and I drive them crazy, and that’s why, I need to keep all of you there, and not all up here,” she gestures to the space around her. “Because then you’ll see me for who I really am, that I am just too much and decide I’m not worth it!”

Because there were all these ugly parts of her, Glimmer realized. And who knows if Bow will still stay if he sees all of them? She already struck out once, and he almost didn’t stay then. So she has to try harder to be better, because who knows how many more chances he’s willing to give her?

But Bow scoffs, looking even angrier than before. “Not _worth it_? _How_? What?” He stumbles over his own tongue as if dozens of words wanted to leave his lips all at the same time. “Glimmer. We just crossed space in a busted up ancient spaceship for _you_ , and we were about to infiltrate Horde Prime’s ship with _nothing._ No She Ra. No powerful weapon. _Nothing_. To save you. We were willing to face anything just to get you back!” His voice cracked. “Despite what you did. _Despite it_. Just how are you _ever_ going to be _not worth it_?”

And he sounds so heartbroken that Glimmer feels even more ashamed for even saying that to his face. Feels even more regretful. She’s so stupid for even thinking that and hurting him _again,_ and so she looks down at her feet, feeling too guilty to even meet his eyes.

“And see you for who you really are?” Bow repeats her words, disbelievingly. “I already know who you are. I’ve known since we were children. Unless what, have you suddenly gone bad?” 

Glimmer wraps her arms around herself. “I might as well have been.”

“You made one mistake,” he argues back.

“I made several, and it culminated into the fucking apocalypse,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry. Okay? Let’s just drop this. I hurt you and everyone else, and what I feel about this shouldn’t matter, so let’s just forget about it.”

She chances a look at him and sees his shoulders slump almost in defeat.

“I thought you weren’t going to stop trying to make things better,” his tone is accusing.

“Yes,” Glimmer says, exasperated, but not at him, never at him. “And this is me _trying_. I’m not pushing you away, Bow. I’m just trying to be less needy and whiny and pushy, and look at that, I’m being horrible at it!”

Bow scowls, shaking his head. “Glimmer, you’re not—”

“No. Listen to me,” she says with emphasis, voice trembling with emotion as a rush of tears attempts to block her throat. She gulps it down. “Look, I know, okay? I _know_ I’m not the easiest person to deal with. And there’s just something in the way that I am that just... pushes people away and makes them leave! I can be toxic and selfish and proud and so stubborn and I don’t deserve _you_ after everything… Or Adora and everyone else,” she adds hesitantly.

She breaks eye contact with him, looking down unsurely at her shaking hands. Tears that edged at the rim of her eyes followed gravity, falling and forming wet spots on the dark fabric of her gloves.

She takes an inhale that stumbles through her lungs. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to be better. Maybe I don’t know exactly how to do that yet and I just—” she clenches her hands in frustration. “I just keep doing and saying the wrong things but believe me, Bow,” Finally she meets his eyes with a tearful gaze and she realizes that not once has he looked away from her. “This is me _trying_. I’m trying _so hard_. So please,” she pleads silently. “Please don’t leave me again.”

And as far as confessions go, Glimmer thinks that’s as far as her courage will ever take her. The words that were uttered in a desperation she would never trust with anyone but him settled in the sudden silence. She wraps her arms around herself again, looking away, too fearful to meet his gaze after that.

Then suddenly, he’s walking towards her. Closing the gap between them.

&

“Please don’t leave me _again_.”

He hates the way she says it. With so much desperation and vulnerability that’s unlike the queen that commanded whatever room she’s in. He hates it, because _why_ does she have to beg for him to stay?

Because did he ever make her feel like he wants anything else?

He hates the way she’s hunched into herself, arms wrapped around her frame. Again. So unlike the bold girl he grew up with who stood as if she was taller than anyone, even him. 

And yet all of this is still _her_. Just a bit scarred and burned by experience and her mistakes, but still Glimmer. And so how can he ever truly hate that? His feet take him closer to her, like a magnet, because wherever she is, that’s where he should be. Like how it always has been. Even if that meant crossing light-years. Even if that meant leaving the solid ground below his feet because he is never steady if she’s not there, anyway.

Don’t leave her again?

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” Bow says, so softly he’s afraid she might not have heard him, but her silent gasp tells him she has. 

He reaches down, unwrapping her arms from herself so he could grip them into his hands. And they’ve done this before, but not enough. Not like this.

At his touch, she finally stops looking down. Finally meets his eyes. 

“Glimmer,” he sniffs as tears cloud his vision, mirroring the sparkles in her eyes. “I’m the one who almost lost you.”

And his face paints all the days spent filled with worry and fear from not knowing if she’s safe. Of pain and loneliness from the thought of never seeing her again. And it returns to his chest tenfold after weeks of stomping it down.

Glimmer’s face splits into a sob, and perhaps she’s just realizing the gravity of the reality they missed by a hair’s breadth. How they almost lost each other forever. And him, who worries even about the smallest things, just how much did he worry for her who meant so much to him?

“I’m sorry,” she cries, clenching his hands to her chest. “Bow, I’m so sorry. I’m so, _so_ sorry. ”

Bow rests his forehead on the top of her head, listening to her regretful whimpers, and wonders how she could ever think that she’s too much. She’s never too much. Not when sometimes it feels like he can’t get enough of her. How sometimes he can’t stop staring, sometimes can’t stop reaching out to touch her. But always, she’s on his mind. 

And that’s not something you feel for a friend, isn’t it? Suddenly, Bow feels stupid. Like finally recognizing something he’s been staring at for ages.

Like separating edible stuff and food and realizing they’re probably just the same thing. 

This entire time.

“... I want you in my life,” he admits tearfully, just in case she still doesn’t know. “That’s what coral means.”

&

Glimmer bursts into another river of tears at his words, and her chest blooms with so much emotion. Gratitude, hope and relief fill up all the cracks and gaps that have accumulated inside her and suddenly, it’s like she’s whole again. 

Like herself again, like she can conquer anything. Just as long as he’s beside her.

“I don’t know how to fix this either…” Bow says, and the top of her head feels moist with his tears. “But we’ll figure it out together. No matter how many missteps. But together this time… yeah?” He sounds so small and hopeful, and when he calls out, there’s just no way she would ever not answer, even if all she could manage right now is to nod passionately against his weight. 

She presses a grateful kiss onto his closed hands—softly, filled with all the words the barrier of tears stuck in her throat wouldn’t permit her to say. Glimmer doesn’t think she could love him any more than at that moment. 

But Bow doesn’t know how she feels yet. Or at least, she doesn’t think so, and so she finally tries to tell him with every tender kiss. On the back of his hands. On his temple as she brings him down with gentle fingers around the back of his head. Then on his forehead. Cheeks.

And when in turn he kisses the bridge of her nose where tears gently fell, she hears the words he also couldn’t say— _‘I know.’_

And after everything, it’s just like that. He _finally knows_.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last long chapter because the rest are going to be short or I hope so, but then again, it's me so we'll never know. Comments give me life and I would love to hear from you all! Let me know what you think below. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, if you've found your way here, let me know what you think in the comments! Thank you for reading!


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